Gee, Your Hair Smells Terrific!
by Melchy
Summary: The Captain helps Carolyn with a small but necessary task, neither of them knowing what feelings it will unleash towards one another.


The Characters from the Ghost and Mrs

The Characters from the Ghost and Mrs. Muir belong to 20th Century Fox and David Gerber Productions. I make no money off of them. I hope who ever did, had fun with it.

This story was written in 2004 for Susan's birthday. Parts of it have been edited from the original to fit the rating system.

Rating is M.

She had managed to do everything she had to do so far, even with her two center fingers taped together. She had been able to type, albeit one handed, eat and take a bath and change her clothes. But now she needed to wash her hair and she wasn't sure how to go about it. Of course it would be so much easier if she didn't have this earache. And if she hadn't had the earache she more than likely would not have smashed her fingers in the car door. But that was neither here nor there. She was the primary speaker at the Keystone Historical Society meeting tomorrow and she had to wash her hair.

She could go to the hairdresser, and have her wash it, she reasoned, but she hated to spend the money on something she could do herself. Except that was the problem, she couldn't do it herself.

"I hate to think I had anything to do with putting that frown on your face." Captain Daniel Gregg appeared behind her, slowly but steadily shortening the distance between them. He was so close she should feel the wool of his jacket against her thin blouse. It was so hard to think when he was this close.

"I have to go to that meeting tomorrow and I need to wash my hair. And I don't know if I can manage it or not." And she held up her fingers. I might be able to do it one handed, except for this earache, I can't let water get into my ears."

"Well, I might be able to help you there," he said confidently. "It would be worth it to me, to make sure that you don't get water in your ears. I don't think I can abide another night of having to put those drops in your ears." And he gave her a rakish smile.

"That's enough out of you," she answered. But he had been very good to her during her illness. He had brought her soup and orange juice, had sat with her reading or talking, even brought her the medicine the doctor had prescribed, even though he kept threatening to make some more Willow Bark Golden Elixir.

"Well, if you think you can handle it." She gave him a playful smile. "I would very much appreciate it."

"You run along and get your things and I will meet you downstairs."

She came down a few minutes later with her shampoo and towel, which he took from her and set up like a doctor preparing for surgery. The water was running and he had set a stool up against the kitchen sink so she could just lean her head over.

"Test the water and make sure it's the right temperature," he told her. He had removed his jacket and had rolled up the sleeves of his turtleneck and she noticed he had very nice arms.

"Now come here," he ordered, "and put your head down, face up. It will make it much easier to wash if we actually get it near the water."

"Very funny. " She couldn't help but laugh. "Please don't let any water get into my ears."

"I will do as directed." He gave her a saucy look. "Now lean back. I won't let you fall."

The water felt good as it hit the back of her head, but his hands felt even better as he guided the water behind her ears, his touch firm but still gentle.

"Just close your eyes, my dear." His voice was soothing. "We wouldn't want any soap getting into them."

She did relax, resting her head against the edge of the sink, grateful for his body, strong beside hers. He leaned across her to get the shampoo, and she couldn't help but marvel again that even though he was a spirit, his touch was so warm. Not nearly often enough had she felt his hands in hers, or felt the shelter of his arms.

Squirting some of the shampoo into his hand, he began to wash the top of her head, first. The luxury of having someone else washing her hair was one she had long forgotten.

"It smells good," he said, as he rubbed the glistening liquid into the strands of her hair. "It smells like you."

"Why Daniel . . ." She felt a little weak. "What a very romantic thing to say."

He didn't answer, he just kept massaging her head with one hand, while his other hand slipped behind her neck to help her hold it up. He couldn't leave, she thought, like he usually did when he said something sweet like that. And it made her feel gratified to know that.

She was soon lulled by the rhythm of his hand running through her hair and the sound of the water running in the sink below her. Her eyes began to close, not because of the danger of shampoo in them, but because she was relaxed. She couldn't remember a massage or steam bath ever feeling as good as this.

The hand that was touching her neck also seemed to be kneading her muscles and delicious warmth washed over her. She wanted to stay right here forever.

"I missed a spot," he laughed, and reached over to get the offending area. He always smelled good, she thought. Like salt from the sea and the outdoors. More than once she had daydreamed about burying her face in his neck and taking in that soothing scent. She could just imagine what it would like to lose yourself in it and him.

He told her he wanted her to date and she did infrequently. But her heart wasn't in it and she recognized the look of jealousy and anger in his eyes when the man of the evening would come to pick her up. It was similar to the one that her husband had had every time a man had looked at her, except his had been from conceit. After three years with Daniel Gregg she knew that his was from -- dare she say it? Love.

But the relationship that she and the Captain had was perfect. They were the best of friends, spending as much time together as possible. He often helped her with her writing and after she had asked him to explain how the sea charts worked, sometimes she helped him with those, either providing or getting information on places or bodies of water that had changed names or were no longer in existence.

They did have their fights like most "people" living in close quarters, but even those were in a way; something to look forward to. Not to mention he was never more handsome than when his blue eyes flashed and he would grip his hands into tight orbs, his body prone and battle ready.

His hand was keeping a bit of shampoo from running down her forehead and his touch felt good on her skin. He ran a finger down behind her ear, careful not to let the soap get near it, and he seemed to linger as he tried to get a tangled piece of hair from around her lobe. It had an intoxicating effect on her body and she felt warm all over, almost tingling. It was a delightful feeling, and yet at the same time, a little overwhelming. Her heart seemed to be beating in places it wasn't accustomed to beating in.

She was completely shocked to feel a dull but steady ache appear deep inside of her. Suddenly, her breasts suddenly felt too tight and her head was filled with the scent of arousal.

This had to stop! He was washing her hair as a favor and here she was being turned on by it. She had to tell him to quit. Right now. He mustn't know what his good deed was doing to her. How the feel of his hand on her neck was making her want to alleviate the ache that wasn't so dull anymore, how his gentle massage of her hair was causing her to want her breasts touched, to have his hand take the place of her clothing.

"Daniel." She reached out to touch his arm and he leaned into hear what she had to say. It was then that she felt him, proof that he was indeed a man hard against her leg and she shivered at the very thought of it.

"I think I need to rinse you," he said abruptly, noticing her eyes were now riveted to his body, and he had gone against what he was supposed to be doing here. He was supposed to be to washing her hair, doing a good deed for a friend, not become intimately aroused by the feel of her skin on his or the way his fingers felt massaging her head and scalp.

"Very good idea," she said, trying not to wince as he leaned over her once more to get the cup he had left on the other side of the sink, and she could have sworn her nipples popped up at the mere thought of his touch.

"Carolyn," he said, in a voice that seemed rather breathless, she couldn't help but think. But surely that was her imagination. She waited for him to continue, but he didn't say any thing more, just began rinsing her hair, once more quite careful to not let any of the water get near her ears.

She stood as still as she possibly could, trying not think about how his hands felt against her scalp, how expertly his fingers moved the water past her ear, how good he felt leaning in to her as he made sure every bit of shampoo was removed.

He was all man, something she had found to be quite apparent from the beginning, despite his afterlife status, but now being so close; it seemed to fairly scream at her. His chest was broad, his legs filled out his trousers well, and his muscled arms were magnificent under his rolled up sleeves. She had always been a sucker for men with rolled up sleeves, she reminded herself. It always made her want to know what was in the part she couldn't see.

"I think we need to get you dried off now," he said rather quickly, that being another real clue that he was not getting through this unaffected either.

"Yes, she nodded," despairing at the thought of him moving his hand from her the back of her head, or his body from her side. Dare she think it? She wanted him. Oh did she want him! "I can dry it myself," she offered, holding out her hand to take the towel. He held it out and shook his head.

"No, I've started this job, I believe I should finish it. But let me help you sit down."

She nodded. "Yes, that would be a good idea."

Still clasping the towel in one hand, he removed the other from the back of her head and brought it around to her waist. Gently he helped her sit down in on the stool, his eyes watching her body as she eased her behind directly on the seat. She saw him swallow and his Adam's apple bob not once but twice. Reaching out to steady her, he began to towel dry her hair, while he tried not to look at her or her damp blouse that she noticed showed a little of what she had on underneath. And the she remembered that that was nothing. What he could see through her blouse was what God had given her.

And today it was in fine shape. Her nipples were perkier than she had ever seen them, even on the coldest day, and her breasts looked perfectly round and full even to her eyes. He was being a perfect gentleman and trying not to look and for some reason that annoyed her. She wanted him to look. She wanted him to touch, to feel and… "Daniel..." She said his name in a choked whisper. "Daniel, please."

He gave her hair one more good rub with the towel, then laid it down and gave her a weak smile. "I think that should take care of it. Do you need help with the hair dryer as well, or can you mange it?"

"I can handle it." She assured him; grateful he had not mentioned this obvious display of wantonness between them and angry because he had not. "Thank you very much."

"It was my pleasure." He nodded. He picked up his jacket and made as if to go, but he remained glued to his spot, his blue eyes looking deep into hers, before slowly moving down her body, a look of appreciation and lust in his glance.

"Daniel" she said his name again and he gave her a smile. "It's not that I don't want too." He began. " I've never wanted anything more. It's just that if we cross that line, then we can't ever go back."

"I don't want to go back." She declared, wishing she had that towel to cover herself with. Instead she threw her arms over her chest and gave him a small smile. "I, I want to cross that line with you."

"Are you sure? Because you know Carolyn if we give into this, everything will change. We will no longer just be friends or even house mates. We will be lovers. Do you really want to establish that kind of connection with someone who doesn't even exist?"

"That's just a technicality." She shook her head. "I don't care about any of that. Do you think I enjoy going out with other men? I only go because you asked me too. I want you, Daniel Gregg." She had thought she could never say those words to him but found they came out quite easily.

"But please don't make me say the other part first." she begged.

""That you love me?" he said the phrase tenderly. "I won't. Because I've known everyday for the last three years, that I completely and utterly do love you."

That was all she needed to hear. Smiling she got up from the table, her shyness forgotten as she pressed her body into his, almost forgetting her tapped fingers. He held them gently, placing them on his shoulder, before leaning down to kiss her. It was what he knew it would be. The first taste of honey was always sweet and this did not disappoint. Tasting her lips, touching her body, was better than heaven he decided. He would never be able to go back.

Once more his mouth fell over hers in a swift movement, his hand reaching down to cup her breast. She noticed that his mouth fit inside of hers as though it were made just for that occasion and she let herself roll on the wave of desire. His hands were doing their own dance on her body and she desperately wanted him to take care of that ache that was so persistent.

"Please," she said again, knowing it sounded anxious, and not caring. He picked her up and started up the stairs, carrying her to the room with due haste. Now that they had decided this was the time, they didn't want anything to get in their way.

They didn't take much time to play, their goal immediate. He gave her a fierce look at the sight of her silk underwear, saying with a grin. . "If it's not corsets, it's something else," he laughed, and she swatted him.

Their lovemaking was needy and fast, the first wave of an orgasm flooded over her and she melted into him. Over and over, she felt the sensation; her body shaking with the ecstasy of it all and it was hard to imagine that was actually her this was happening to.

Afterwards she buried her head on his chest and he stroked her hair, whispering her name like a chant.

I t was much later, completely sated for the time, that they lay in the bed, nothing between them except their own skin. She was stretched out over him, her head cradled on his chest, his hands holding her buttocks in his firm grasp.

"Did we leave the water running?" She suddenly asked, and he laughed. "For the life of me, I can't seem to remember.

"That's quite all right, dear lady." His hands ran up her back, pushing her into him. "We might need it again, anyway."

"I hope so." And they started once more to love one another.


End file.
